


Why don't you hold me anymore like you used to?

by CamilleDuDemon



Category: Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Ani needs a hug or two, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightmares, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:50:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6042162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamilleDuDemon/pseuds/CamilleDuDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That's not the point, Obi-Wan!”, he raises his voice. “Why aren't we close anymore? Why do you reject me?”<br/>“Force, lower your voice, Anakin!”<br/>His eyes widen. You can feel his anger grow and you realize you've been too hard with him with your mocking tone and carelessness.<br/>“See, master? I could scream as loud as I can that I love you, and you'd only tell me to lower my voice!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why don't you hold me anymore like you used to?

 

“Master, I had...a bad dream.”

It takes quite some time to you to recognize Anakin's silhouette in the darkness of your room.

He's leaning against the door, shirtless and barefoot, and you sense he's trying to hold tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Force, Anakin, you scared me!”

“I apologize”, he mumbles.

“What...what happened?”, you ask him, rubbing sleep from your eyes and trying to focus.

“Told you. I had a bad dream.”

You sigh loudly. Another night of sleep deprivation, or so it seems.

“Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe it can help...”

He mumbles something that you can't understand, a sentence involving a curse and the word “hug”, then he crawls his feet down the small corridor. You simply take it as his own way to say yes.

You follow him to the kitchen, where he sits leg crossed on a chair, his eyes still swollen and wet.

“Anakin...what did you exactly see in your nightmare?”

He shrugs. His sight is now focused on a small stain on the table, right in front of him.

“I only remember anguish. Tons of anguish. I was alone, and I was scared.”

“I'm...sorry, my Padawan. Truly sorry. It must have been terrible...”

You have no comforting words to offer him.

What can you possibly say? The old fashioned refrain that says “dreams and visions needs to be interpreted, things are not always what they seem”? Nope. You'd sound like a bad impression of master Yoda and, besides, Anakin is well aware that visions are often a twisted product of our imagination.

You try to offer him your silent presence, but it doesn't seem to help. On the contrary, you begin to sense anger in him. Anger and disappointment, sadness and abandonment.

You shook your head and wait patiently for the water to boil.

When you're pouring it into the cups, he finally speaks.

“Why don't you hold me anymore like you used to, master?”

His voice is harsh and it's clear to see that he's trying his best not to burst into tears.

“What do you mean?”

He stares at his full cup of steamy tea, blue eyes shining in the artificial light of the kitchen.

“You used to offer me comfort, once, master. I remember sleeping by your side, after having a nightmare. I remember you holding me tight all night long...and I felt protected. I felt loved...”

You furrow your brows, annoyed.

“Are we really talking about this, Anakin? That you don't feel loved anymore because I don't lull you when you have a nightmare?”

Your Padawan clenches his fists, stung by your words.

“That's not the point, Obi-Wan!”, he raises his voice. “Why aren't we close anymore? Why do you reject me?”

“Force, lower your voice, Anakin!”

His eyes widen. You can feel his anger grow and you realize you've been too hard with him with your mocking tone and carelessness.

“See, master? I could scream as loud as I can that I love you, and you'd only tell me to lower my voice!”

With a powerful hit in the Force he spills both of your cups, then rushes to his room. The door closes behind him with a loud thud.

So this is. He's in love with you.

You try to speak your mind, but you can't tell when he started to develop feelings for you.

You simply sit, your nightshirt soaked with tea, thinking about all the signals he gave to you to help you understand how he felt.

Maybe it was all the physical contact you had. Or the little smirks he gave you.

Maybe it was your little talks, when you both sat on the balcony admiring the magnificent skyline of Coruscant after a rough day of training.

Could it be your fault? Oh, yes, it is. It's surely your fault, for you're supposed to be the responsible one. The mature one.

“Oh, Anakin...”, you whisper.

You can hear him sob in response.

 

 

 

“Anakin...”

Two hours passed from the kitchen incident.

You took a deep breath, cleaned up the mess and changed your nightclothes.

You frankly hoped he was asleep before putting yourself in god knows what, but now that you're in his room you can feel he's not sleeping at all.

He turns his back at you, silent and still, his body half covered by a thin sheet.

You decide to put your hand on his shoulder and he freezes.

How can you tell him now that you'd gladly give your life for him? That you'd throw yourself into the flames, if it could save his life or merely give him one minute ahead?

“Anakin, please...”

He slowly turns to meet your gaze.

There are big tears running down his pale cheeks.

“Master...”, he whispers. “Hold me, please.”

You can't stand seeing him so heartbroken, so you simply give up.

You know better this is gonna feed his hopes, but can't help it.

He's so desperate for your hug you'd hold him 'till the end of times, if he needed it. He's so vulnerable and childish that somehow your sanity takes a break and you hold him so tight you can feel his ribs flex under your arms.

“Oh, Anakin, Anakin, Anakin...”, you whisper at his ear, while his tears start to soak the collar of your freshly changed t-shirt and he holds onto you like you're his only reason for living.

You know that what you're doing is highly inappropriate, but it seems that your Padawan calmed down a bit. His head rests in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin nicely and his arms are around your waist.

You've seen this before: it was the way you provided comfort to Anakin, whenever he needed it, when he was a child.

It was the way you made him feel loved and cared for.

“I used to hold you like this, once...”, you say.

He nods.

“I already loved you back then.”

You sigh.

“Anakin...”

_It's highly inappropriate_ , you'd like to say.

“Please, don't say a word. Please.”

You shut your mouth for once and carefully lay on his bed, allowing him to snuggle on your chest, his big body almost covering you whole.

It's like when he was a kid...except he's taller than you now. Almost a grown man.

You gently run your finger across his hair, lingering on his long braid with a sigh.

“Rest, Anakin”, you whisper.

He nods.

Despite how inappropriate the whole situation is, you have to admit you missed sleeping with him.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
